Diary and Journal of the Delta Guardian
Friday 14th of October, Year 43 AD (After Darkness)

Wow. I can’t believe it’s been forty-three years already… and yet, according to the others, I don’t look a day over twenty. Guess that’s the benefits of being a Draconid, longevity and all that.

Hello to anyone reading this. Not sure why anyone would be reading my journal, but who knows, maybe it became some valuable museum piece in the future, maybe people are studying me.

Hope their pants aren’t too tight. Heh.

Anyway, yeah, hi. As you can probably tell, I’m Zinnia. Well, as this is the first entry I suppose I should start at the beginning, best way to tell a story and all. So yeah, where to begin… Oh, yeah! How did I come to Equestria?

Well, it went a little something like this. To begin with, my name wasn’t always Zinnia...

Pleasant Hills Memorial Mental Health Asylum, built on the border of the small town of Goldfield. While to the general populace it was a place of care, meant to help those with damaged psyche to heal and recuperate, it meant something different to any unlucky enough to find themselves as patients.

To them, it was just a little slice of Hell.

A loud banging sounded out in one of the many cells within the hospital, the distinctive sound of a doctor’s fist impacting with the metal barrier ringing in the ears of the young woman within.

“Patient 2615525, I am entering your cell!” A man’s voice called out with a deep, authoritative tone. “Remain distanced from the door!” A few moments of silence followed before the doctor gave another loud thud on the door. “Patient 2615525!”

“I heard ya!” the woman shouted back sharply from her position on the small, padded-metal frame bed, her back to the door. She sighed as the familiar sound of the three individual locks on her door - which she was assured were for her own safety - sliding open, sitting up as her long, raven-black hair fell around her face and looking around the room.

Just the same as every other day, the only things that met her vision were the pristine, white, padded walls of the cell, the cold steel door set into one wall (padded on her side, of course), and the single other piece of furniture in the room - an uncomfortable three-legged stool, the colour of old, rotted wood but yet still apparently good enough for her. As the door swung open, the young woman turned her scarlet eyes to him, a glare forming on her brow.

“Hello again, Patient 2615525,” the doctor said as he stepped in. A tall, skinny man with neatly brushed brown hair and a pair of simple black spectacles resting upon his nose, the doctor made his way into her room with all the confidence in the world, his neatly pressed lab coat ruffling only slightly in the breeze it felt from his movement.

“Don’t call me that,” the woman grunted, refusing to meet his gaze as she allowed her unkempt fringe to cover her face. “You know my name. You know everything about me, it’s all in those charts of yours. I wasn’t allowed any shred of privacy in your screenings.”

“Come now, Patient 2615525,” the doctor sighed, straightening his glasses with his palm. “You know full well by this point that that was a necessary process in order to best judge the actions to take with your recovery.” The woman just grunted again, turning away from him as much as she could in her straightjacket. “Alright then, if it would make you more receptive, I shall call you by your name. Is that more acceptable to you… Zoey?” he asked, pausing to check his clipboard.

“Feh,” Zoey spat, allowing him to see her cynical smirk as she shook her head. “Care so much you had to check your little board… yeah, that’s ‘acceptable’ to me,” she allowed. “So whaddya want?”

The doctor shook his head, turning to a blank sheet in his clipboard and noting something down. “I was merely here to inform you of a new program that we are initiating,” he said after a moment. “The more healthy and well-behaved patients are being allowed attendance to the local gaming convention in a week’s time, and will even be allowed to dress in costume. Patient Identification badges will be distributed of course, but-”

“What?” Zoey demanded coldly, cutting off the doctor’s words. “You’re telling me… you want me to go to a convention?” she continued, turning to him with a silent anger in her eyes. “You know full well why I’m here, and you’re even suggesting that?!”

“I would suggest you calm yourself,” the doctor warned her. “Whilst you are correct that we are well aware of your elder brother’s disappearance at one of these events, the board believes the fastest road to your recovery is to face this problem directly. A costume has already been chosen and purchased for you based on recorded interests and references to your personal appearance.” Pausing for a moment, the doctor once more flipped through the sheets on his clipboard before turning it to Zoey, showing an image of a character all-too familiar to her.

“...Zinnia?” she asked in confusion, blinking twice before a slight smile crossed her face as her anger at the situation seemed to bleed away. “Heh, good times. And I guess I do look kinda like her… I’d need a haircut though, pretty sure I haven’t had one since I… checked in.”

The doctor nodded in satisfaction, pulling back his extended arm and flipping to his notes on the clipboard, once more scribbling across the page. “I have already arranged for Nurse Patricia to provide just that service for you, Zoey. She will be visiting you later today, at precisely sixteen-hundred.”

“Four o’clock,” Zoey deadpanned, rolling her eyes.

“Quite,” he continued, nodding in confirmation as he stood before checking his clipboard once more. “Oh, and you have also been deemed safe enough to remove your straightjacket and have free roaming during the day. Do try not to squander this privilege.” As he spoke, the doctor moved over to Zoey’s side, reaching behind her to undo the clasps on her jacket and allowing it to fall to the floor, revealing her bare, olive-skinned chest. At his stern gaze, the young woman rolled her eyes, lifting the sheets of her bed to cover her modesty. “I would also suggest you work on your social etiquette,” the doctor added before turning and heading for the door, leaving the heavy steel portal open as he strode away.

Zoey looked down at herself, arms finally free again after so long that she barely remembered what they looked like. Slender, olive-skinned, with just the slightest hint of muscle below from her days training for self-defense - you could never be too careful. She smiled as she ran her left hand up her right arm, faltering as her fingertips brushed the tattoo on the back of her shoulder, a simple heart design with ‘Nathan’ written inside in cursive.

Trembling slightly, Zoey fell back onto her bed, curling up as a stray tear fell down her face.

“...I miss you…”

Hours later, Zoey sat on the rotted-looking stool in her room, now clothed in a black tank top with red collar, red claw designs curling around her breasts, and a pair of simple, dark green shorts. A pale brown cloak sat on her bed.

Staring into the large, full-body mirror that had been provided, the young woman couldn’t help but stare at the nurse behind her as her hair was cut and trimmed. The nurse in question was filipino, with skin kissed by the sun to give her the perfect tan. Long, pink hair cascaded down her back, and her uniform clearly struggled to contain her bountiful bust, even considering the amount of cleavage that she showed with her buttons left undone.

“And that should be…” Patricia muttered, leaning in close as she trimmed a few stray hairs on the side of Zoey’s head. “Just… about… it!” Standing straight, the busty nurse took a small brush from the bag at her hip, using it to brush the hairs off of Zoey’s shoulders. “What’cha think hun?”

“It’s…” Zoey muttered, a slight blush on her face as she tried not to stare at the nurse’s reflection. “It’s perfect. I can’t thank you enough, Patty.”

“Hey, no worries,” Patricia shot back with a smile, packing her tools away before pausing. “Y’know, I can’t help but get a sense of deja vu here…”

“What do you mean?” Zoey asked in confusion as she stood, brushing off her knees.

“Oh, nothing dear,” the nurse replied with a smile, waving off any concerns. “So how are you feeling about going to this con?”

“Oh,” Zoey muttered, looking down nervously as she rubbed at her arm. “I… I don’t know… I mean, it’ll be good to get out of this place even for a day, but… going there…”

“Yeah…” Patty sighed, nodding solemnly. “I’m sorry hun, if it were up to me you wouldn’t have to go, but the higher ups do really think it’d be good for you.” Silence filled the room for a time before Patty seemed to brighten up, reaching into into her bag. “Oh!” she cried. “Almost forgot, I got you something for your costume!”

Overcome by curiosity, Zoey turned around, eyes widening as she watched Patty pull a large, metallic anklet out, painted a deep cobalt blue and fashioned to imitate a great, coiling dragon, a gemstone roughly the size of a small marble embedded in it’s head. Raised sections formed a pattern along the body, accentuated by the black lines painted along the surface.

“Oh wow…” Zoey breathed, eyes wide as she took the anklet in her hands shakily. “Patty, I…”

“No thanks necessary,” Patty chuckled, brushing her nails off on her uniform as she headed for the door. “Just try to enjoy yourself where you’re going, alright hun?” With that and a quick smile, the nurse turned the corner, disappearing down the hall.

“I will!” Zoey called after her, a wide smile on her face as she moved to her bed, fastening the anklet to her leg before throwing the cloak on over her shoulder. As she stood before the mirror, however, a thought crossed her mind. “Wait a minute... what did she-”

The sound of an explosion followed by the ground beginning to shake furiously cut her off, throwing the young girl to the ground. Quickly regaining her balance, Zoey pushed herself to her feet, looking up just in time to see the walls of the asylum get torn away by gargantuan, emerald claws, a great hulking beast of a Dragon peering in the newly-created hole, it’s emerald scales glittering in the sunlight that rushed in. Glowing yellow markings covered its serpentine body, matching yellow eyes seeming to study her for a time before the creature seemed to smile, bearing it’s razor-sharp fangs.

The last thing Zoey saw as the Dragon snapped it’s hungry jaws around her form was a bright, rainbow-coloured light…